Avoidance Is Never The Solution
by salvatoresandherondales
Summary: It's about a week after the events of the movie and Natasha has a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She doesn't know what it is but she'd sure like to find out.


It was about a week and a half after the Loki-slash-alien attack on Manhattan that Natasha realised she hadn't seen much of Clint. She had been lying in bed, just woken up, when the realization hit her. She figured a dream had caused it.

Of course, she reasoned, both her and Clint (all of the Avengers, really) had been busy with Agent Hill and Fury debriefing them for hours on end, however, when she looked back on the only times she'd seen him, a funny feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

There was the time when she'd just gotten into the break room and was pouring herself a huge mug of coffee when she heard Clint excuse himself from the room, muttering something about checking his bow. She'd dismissed that as Clint just being himself but he'd done the same thing later that day. Steve, who had been sitting against wall and reading the paper at the table, had even queried, "He loves that bow, doesn't he?" with a wry grin. Natasha managed a smile at him, and nodded slightly as she'd wrapped her hands around her cup.

The next time happened when she was shooting targets in the training room. Footsteps sounding exactly like Clint's, she would never tell him she'd imprinted his footfall sounds in her mind ever, came into the room and immediately turned away at the doorframe. Her shots didn't waver and she didn't turn around to follow. Disappointment had flowed through her body and she wondered what she'd done wrong.

The third time as well as the last time before she'd decided she'd need to say something, and when she _really _noticed that he was avoiding her, was when Fury ordered the two on a short information-gathering job into San Francisco and Clint told Stark to go with her instead. When she asked him why he couldn't go he looked away and muttered he wasn't feeling well that was barely audible to her ears.

Natasha, much more awake now, rose from her bed and grabbed her normal attire from the wardrobe in her room, throwing them on routinely. She'd moved into the Stark Tower as soon as Tony had offered her one if his more advanced rooms.

It was during the time when the six Avengers had been eating shawarma had he brought up his proposal of them moving in with him. His excuse was that it would be easier for Fury to get a better hold of them if they were wanted for a mission. Steve had immediately jumped in; mentioning that it would be much easier to stay on the helicarrier, that way Fury (or Agent Hill, depending) could get them himself. Tony then brought up the fact that the Stark Tower was getting rebuilt so if they asked him nicely, they could have whatever they wanted. Clint had dared the Captain to say no. He hadn't.

So, Natasha was now a roommate to Steve, and Thor too since he'd decided to come back to Midgard after returning Loki to Asgard. _Closer to m'lady Jane, _he said when Clint had questioned him about staying or going to back to his home. The archer had grinned slyly.

"Natasha?" A voice calling from outside her door pulled her from her reverie, and she realised she'd made her way into her kitchen. She flicked the kettle on, and made her way to the front.

"Steve," she smiled, trying to push her thoughts away, as she opened the door to find the smiling soldier. "What can I help you with?"

He rolled his eyes. "Tony's called a meeting in his lab, something about a new weapon. Boasting about it, probably."

"Honestly would not surprise me," she replied good-naturedly. "Just give me moment. Tell Tony I'll be there soon."

Steve nodded. "As you wish, Natasha."

"Thank you." She stepped backwards and shut the door as Steve turned and began to make his way to Tony's lab.

Walking back to the kitchen, Natasha flipped the kettle off and recollected her thoughts. Hopefully Clint would be there too and she could talk to him afterwards. Decided, she walked out of her room and towards the elevator where the God of Thunder himself was waiting for one.

"All the money in the world," Natasha began, startling Thor, "and he can't get faster elevators." She grinned up at him as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Together, they stepped in, Thor pressing the buttons needed to get them to Tony's lab. "In Asgard," he began as a response, "we have stairs."

Natasha leant against the back of the moving box, laughing quietly. "Yes, well, here on Midgard," she said Earth's alternative name ironically if not with a little ribbing towards Thor. The word felt weird on her tongue and she figured it came it with her old Russian accent despite years of getting rid of it, "some inventors happen to be lazy."

Thor turned around, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards into a huge grin. "Yes, they happen to be."

"Do you know what Tony wants?" Natasha asked as she watched the numbers tick up to the 47 floor, Tony's lab. The top ten floors, bar the top two, of the Tower (out of the 50) were roomed floors, and his and Bruce's lab. The top two were Tony's own, and Pepper when she wasn't in D.C.

Thor shook his head. "No, I do not. Do you?"

"Nah, Steve suggested to me it's probably a new weapon he and Bruce made, though."

The elevator doors dinged open, cutting off Thor's reply and revealing Clint.

Natasha smiled at him. "Hey Clint," she said, stepping forward and out of the elevator with Thor following close behind.

"Hi, Nat," he nodded in return, "hey Thor."

"Clint." The demigod gave him a nod of his own.

"Tony called us to his lab," Natasha told Clint, looking between him and elevator he was about to step into. She was confused, "where are you going?"

"Uh-um Tony asked me to go get him something from the kitchen." He ran a hand through his hair, a sign to Natasha that he was _really _stressed. She had no idea why. Without waiting for an answer, Clint pressed the close doors button and they shut, cutting off whatever she had been about to say.

"He never stutters," Thor wondered aloud.

Natasha's mouth was set in a thin line. "I know." That was all she said as she, Thor right behind her, marched towards the main part of the lab, where everyone was waiting for them.

"Finally," was Tony's opening statement to them as the electronic doors closed behind the demigod and assassin. "Where's Barton?" He grinned.

Thor looked to Natasha and Natasha looked to Thor and then turned to Tony. "He told me he was getting something for you. From the kitchen," she said.

Pepper, who Natasha just realized was here too, spoke instead. "I've been with Tony all morning. The only time we saw him was 5 minutes ago and Tony definitely didn't ask for something from the kitchen." Her face was entirely plastered with concern.

"Then why wo-" she cut herself off angrily. It was all she could she do not to huff. "Do I need to be here?" she asked both Tony and Bruce, who had been quiet since she'd arrived.

Bruce shook his head, eyes wide. He really didn't like confrontations.

"I'll fill you in later, Natasha." That was Pepper. And Steve. They'd both spoken the same words in sync. If she was feeling not like she was now, she probably would have laughed.

"Thank you," she responded, hurriedly leaving the lab and making her way back to the floor where all their rooms were. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she stomped her way to Clint's room, knocking rapidly on the entrance to his room.

"I'm coming, I'-" The door swung open and, once realizing the person standing before him was his partner in crime, he stopped talking. "Nat," he breathed, his eyes towards the ground.

"Hi," she retorted through clenched teeth. Without asking to come in or getting a gesture from Clint, she barged through him and into his room, situating herself sprawled out horizontally on one of his loveseats and leaving the gobsmacked assassin standing in her wake.

He followed her a few moments later, walking slowly and trying to delay the inevitable. He hated confrontation with Natasha. It always ended with them being pissed off at one another before one of them came to apologise a couple of days later. He absolutely hated it and, this time, he was pretty sure he was the one in the wrong. He seated himself on the opposite loveseat, clasped hands and inquisitive eyes that were directed at the red-head.

Natasha scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not starting this conversation, Barton. You know why I'm here."

Clint nodded slowly. "Of course you do, you're Natasha Romanoff. But, yes, you're right. I've been avoiding you."

"Why?" Natasha bit out.

He stayed silent.

"Clint."

The archer didn't answer straight away, standing up instead and walking over to her couch. He lifted her legs up and sat down before putting them over his lap. Natasha went to move but Clint's strong arms kept her in place. She pouted.

"Alright, alright," he said. He looked at her seriously. "Thor told me what happened."

"That's your starter?" she asked disbelievingly.

He sighed. "I haven't even finished yet, Natasha. Thor told me what happened when I was inside Loki's mind control. He told me _everything._ Some of the things I already knew, because I was there but the rest," he paused and shook his head, "I had no idea."

"What are you getting at Clint?" Natasha was starting to panic just a little.

"He told me what happened with Bruce, Nat, and the Other Guy." His grip on her legs tightened a fraction, a sign of affection that Natasha didn't know what to make of. "You nearly died, and it would have been my fault," he added quietly, intimately.

Natasha was fuming; angry that Thor had told her best friend, partner and god-knows-what-else one of her secrets and mad that, again, Clint was blaming himself for the actions he did while compelled by that really annoying Norse god. She yanked her legs back and stood up.

"Nat?" Clint asked with worry lacing his tone.

She shook her head. "Don't 'Nat' me, Clint. Don't you dare. Nothing that you did while under Loki's magic spell, or whatever the hell it was, was your fault. Nothing, Clint. I told you not to do that to yourself either. I told you." She was pacing, continuously running a hand through her hair. "Then I mentioned that we're human and can't expect this sort of stuff."

"You actually said, and quote, _this is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for_." Clint grinned.

Natasha pointed at him. "No, don't joke. This is serious. I'm serious. If you continue to blame yourself over and over, Barton, I-I-I….." she trailed off, uncertainty tinging her voice.

"You'll what, Nat?" he interjected, eyebrows raised. "What will you do to me?" Standing up, he stopped her from pacing and put a hand on each shoulder. "What. Will. You. Do?"

"I'll ask Fury to stop sending us on missions together."

Clint's hands dropped with a sudden surge of panic. The feeling was over as quickly as it had begun and he was definitely relieved. "No you won't." He chuckled. "You definitely won't."

"How do you know I won't?" she asked, looking up at him under her eye lashes.

He shrugged. "Because I know you, Nat. I probably know you better than you know yourself."

"That doesn't mean a thing in this situation, Clint." She sat down again, nervously fidgeting with her hands. This argument was clearly getting to her. "As I said before, you need to stop blaming yourself. This whole thing, with Loki, the possession, the aliens, it's over. _Over, _Clint. We won."

Clint had joined her back on the couch and was sitting knee-to-knee, shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He sighed. "You're right, I know you're right but that doesn't mean I can't shake the feeling that I'm a cold-blooded murderer. I _killed _S.H.I.E.L.D agents, Nat. I killed my co-workers. And nearly, very maybe, killed you too."

"It wasn't you," she mumbled. "You were _possessed._"

"It doesn't matter. I still remember it. I remember shooting that arrow into the helicarrier and blowing up the engine. I actually remember fighting you, too. I remember every little thing that I did or said while Loki's voodoo did its number on me. Hell, I even have nightmares about it." He angled his body towards hers and took her face gently in his hands. "Listen. Alright? Listen to me. I know you want me to not blame myself, and I'm going to try. Oh my god am I going to try. But, I need you to know that, even though I wasn't 'myself', I'm sorry. For _everything _I did, I'm sorry."

Natasha's eyes were wide. "Clint," she whispered. "I-I-I…"

"You don't have to say anything, Nat." He smiled softly at her. "Your face says everything."

"It doesn't say what _I _want to say," she retorted boldly. "_I'm _sorry. I'm sorry for yelling at you, Clint. Bu-"

He scoffed. "Don't apologise for that. I've been acting like an absolute idiot ever since. I should have told you about it the moment I knew."

"I wasn't finished, Barton." For some odd reason, she had the urge to poke her tongue out at him but this was a serious conversation and she had to act like an adult. "I need you to know that, I'm a big girl, alright? I can take care of myself. The Hulk has nothing on the Black Widow." She tried to grin, her playful mood gone in a matter of seconds because of a few simple words.

"You're not scared of much, Romanoff, but I know you were terrified. He's pretty scary."

"Only if you're on his bad side, Barton." This time she did grin and her whole face lit up.

"Serious conversation over?" he asked.

Natasha nodded but warned, "Just remember my need-to-know."

"Remember mine, too, then," Clint advised.

"You guys finished?" a new voice cut in, startling both the archer and the assassin.

"Stark," Natasha growled. "How long have you been listening?"

Tony sighed over the intercom. "Only a couple of seconds, I swear. Every time I went to listen in, Pepper slapped me." Clint and Natasha could tell he was pouting and their moment of panic about their conversation being overheard dissipated. They wouldn't tell anyone what had transpired; it was no different to any other time they had arguments with each other.

"To answer your original question, yes, we_ are _finished," Clint responded. "Why?" He was irritated. At Tony. He didn't want to be but he was. The moment between him and Natasha was gone; he'd wanted it to go for longer. Duty calls, he supposed when he heard Tony's next words.

"Fury. Meet the rest of us in the lab. Pepper will explain to Natasha and the Captain to Barton _after _our mission on what I wanted to show you both." There was noise that signalled Tony was gone, and they both wondered why they hadn't heard the noise that would have told them Tony was listening _in._

"Alright." Natasha sighed and got up, walking towards the door. Clint stayed seated. "You coming?" she asked him when she realized he hadn't followed.

He shook his head and stood. "Of course. Let's go see what the boss man wants, shall we?" He smiled at her, stepping in front and opening the door. "Ladies first."

Natasha grinned back at him. "Thank you."

The door closed behind them as they made their way towards the elevator.

"You know," Clint began quietly as they waited, "I wasn't going to avoid you forever."

"Mmhmm," she retorted, a sly grin on her face. "It just happened now because you're terrified of me."

"Dream on, little girl."

"You know," she continued, mimicking the words her best friend said only moments before and ignoring the 'little girl' jibe, "I could kill you a hundred different ways with just my body." The elevator doors opened and she stepped in. "No weapon."

He looked at her seriously for a moment, his eyes showing a tad bit of fear. "You told me that the first time I met you. I've never forgotten it."

Ruining the illusion, he burst out laughing and joined her in the shaft. Milliseconds later, they were lifted up, the little moving box taking them to meet their fellow Avengers.

**A/N **Hey guys. I hope you liked this. It took me a couple of days, and I just wanted to thank you for reading. Your support means a lot and reviews and such is much appreciated. Again, thank you for reading. (:


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